Birthday

On Monday I celebrated my birthday, my 25th birthday.  I wrote this that night near midnight.

It's my birthday, my 25th birthday.  I suddenly feel a little hesitant heading int othis year without much reflection.  Tired, even.  25. In some way, that's supposed to be significant, right?  I can rent cars without paying extra daily charges.  I'm supposed to have a quarter life crisis ~ for which I'm open to suggestions.

I briefly thought about quitting my job here and moving to Mexico City to live with my sister and brother-in-law and to take care of my nephew.

My friend Elise, at the request for suggestions, paused and thought about it then said pointedly, "You know, Emily, you already lead such an adventurous life - there's no need for one."

Adventurous.  This is not a word I would have used to describe myself.  I feel I pale in comparison to my friends and acquaintances.  I work nearly 50 hours a week, I'm beginning to dabble in church commitments, I spend my free time daydreaming about work and planning for work.  I like to visit my grandparents and sometimes I just wish for more quiet in my life.

I once sat, exasperated, across a coffee shop patio table from a now-ex-boyfriend and I banged my head down on the table.  "I just need to meditate!"

"So do." Then he drove me home, gave me a hug and a kiss and left me there, quiet, still and alone.

I ache at that memory, at that big empty space.  I remember standing in my un-air-conditioned house on that sweltering day, marvelous.  I stand at the edge of a field of crisp, amber wheat beneath a pure blue sky.  Oceans of yellow and solid, steady blue.  I am awash in it.  I long for such lazy, hazy days when my spirit rises up around me, my back pressed firmly into the the land on which I was born, the aromas of my wheat-filled childhood wafting up around me, releasing their pollens into that eternally steady sky; the sky of promises, the sky on which I rely.

If I knew how to dance to ask for rain, I would do so now.  I would ask the gods of the sky to look down upon me and see this lonely child looking up to them, basking in their glory, wondering, wondering, asking for wisdom as I open this next chapter of my life.

I hope for this year to step off of solid ground and set sail on a sky so blue it reflects the bright light of the sun.